


Make Love. Not War.

by Pyrothebookworm



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: About Axe body spray, Crack, Except my crappy writing that's on me, Gen, How Do I Tag, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It's all Ozhawks fault, My First AO3 Post, My First Work in This Fandom, Ozhawk did a thing, What Was I Thinking?, With no Beta, i commented
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 09:04:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6976804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pyrothebookworm/pseuds/Pyrothebookworm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why does Rumlow love Axe body spray so much?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Love. Not War.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/gifts), [bofurrific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bofurrific/gifts), [stoatsandwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/stoatsandwich/gifts), [Lauralot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lauralot/gifts), [Dira Sudis (dsudis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsudis/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Marvel-ous Birthdays 2016](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6561112) by [ozhawk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozhawk/pseuds/ozhawk). 



> If you think you recognize it I do not own it. I am just borrowing it for the moment. Mentioned OC's belong to their respective creators I am merely borrowing them with the utmost respect to their creators. And hoping they will not ask me to take this down.

It started with watching a rerun of Rocky. It was late Friday night and Steve had just come back from his first Strike mission several hours before and after being checked over by medical and showers the team had met up at the bar for a few rounds of celebratory drinks before everyone called it a night. Upon arriving home Steve found that he had still been just a little too wired to sleep. He had spent weeks training with the illustrious Strike team Alpha and he found he quite liked them. 

There was team leader Brock Rumlow was a shorter compactly muscled man who possessed swarthy good looks, an easy going nature, and a slightly cocky attitude. Rumlow who after a somewhat rocky start was surprisingly Ok with his demotion to second in command of the team that he had headed for years. Well, he was once he’d had a few interactions with Steve, and even gone toe to toe a couple of times on the training mat and realized that his prized team wouldn’t be stuck babysitting some All American pretty boy who was just there to make the higher ups look good. Rumlow’s second in command a quiet tall man with dark hair, a build that almost matched his, and a prominent scar on his chin was named Rollins. The two had known each other for years, Rollins seemed to be an ocean of calm to the charismatic force of nature that was Rumlow. Every time Steve looked at them he felt a small pang of nostalgia, seeing the two of them together reminded him of his best friend. There was no doubt that they were well matched, and had been partners on the field for a long time.

The third member of the team was a pretty young blond named Julie Anders. Anders was not only a damn good soldier but possessed a strong self-confidence mixed with grace and poise. Nothing ever really seemed to phase Anders. Last, but certainly not the least was a dark haired Hispanic young man named with a heart of gold named Isaac Murphy. Steve occasionally found himself wondering exactly why Murphy had decided to become a soldier instead of an activist. Murphy was, quirky, to say the least. A dedicated vegetarian and a staunch supporter of animal rights, there was something almost innocent about Murphy, though he was still a good man to have at your back. It was a well-balanced team that, in some of his more maudlin moments, reminded Steve of the Howling Commandos. But, it was a good pain, Strike didn’t so much as take the Commandos place, as they managed to carve out their own little niche in Steve’s heart. 

Those four comprised the core of Strike Team Alpha. There were a few other agents who were rotated into the team roster when their skills were needed. Natasha who Steve had the pleasure of working with during the invasion of New York, was one. Another pair were Westfahl, who seemed too specialize in tech and communications, but always seemed to make some minor mistake which resulted in those around him yelling out “Dammit Westfahl” and flirting with Cynthia Mercer, combat support, a real firecracker of a woman who usually responded by doing some form of harm to him. Most typically an open handed smack to the back of Westfahl’s head. 

However just because STRIKE trusted Rumlow didn’t mean they would blindly follow Steve without him having gained their trust as well. Trust Steve had earned running obstacle courses and spending time on the range, working out together, relaxing and sharing meals, and performing enough training simulations until all members of the team felt comfortable with each other and were beginning to learn things about each other. Like Steve’s artistic abilities, Rumlow’s obsession with Axe body spray, Rollins snarky sense of humor, Anders love for her chef boyfriend who liked to crochet, and the fact that Murphy had a soft spot for animals a mile wide. Each member had contributed something to Steve’s list of things to catch up on. They were starting to trust each other.

The mission itself was little more than a milk run and had gone off without a hitch, since he was currently on a few days of mandatory SHIELD leave Steve had originally been flipping channels when he stopped on channel of classic movies and the preview of the upcoming movie was Rocky. As Rumlow had recommended the first Rocky but definitely not the second, Steve figured it would be good for a conversation at tomorrow’s get together and slipped into the kitchen to make some popcorn grabbed a soda and settled down to watch. It was about half way through the movie during a commercial break that something caught his attention.

The commercial started with what looked like a police escort while a sorrowful piano piece played gently in the background. Steve watched transfixed as a man who looked like a General of some kind stepped from the car and walked under armed escort down a hallway with a metal briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. The second series of images was of helicopters flying over grassy fields and showed a pair of young soldiers, one with dark skin while the second looked like there would be a swarthy almost olive to his skin if he wasn’t so pale, were sitting looking nervous, almost frightened. It was the second soldier that looked surprisingly familiar even though Steve couldn’t really place where or why. The third set, showed a tank traveling through a war torn city. It was just close enough too resembling some of the war torn cities Steve had visited during WWII to make his breath hitch with remembrance. The final set showed a trained army coming to attention while a round faced young Asian man in a Tan military uniform and a pretty, young, Asian woman in a black dress stood on a balcony surrounded by banners and what appeared to be maybe 15 highly decorated Generals.

Then it was back to the first General, in a room decorated with draping gold banners, as he places the briefcase in front of a stern, somewhat distinguished looking man in a tan suit with a neatly trimmed beard at the head of a room full of men. Beside him sat a lovely dark haired woman in a long cream dress with a dark blue scarf draped over her head and shoulders. The man quickly opened the briefcase to show a bunch of nobs and buttons. Next, the images changed back to the war torn city and Steve tensed as he could hear machine gunfire and screaming. In the background people ran away from the approaching tank as in the foreground a blond woman in a black coat holding her purse and what looked like her grocery bags walked towards the tank. The view of the scene changed till you were on top of and slightly behind the tank and could see the woman approaching before zooming in on the pretty woman’s wary face with her bright red lipstick. Then, it was back to the helicopters with flashes of dark skinned young children looking around while and older man and a fourth young woman also appearing to be of Asian descent, wearing simple, comfortable, clothes and strangely shaped hats that looked like they were made from paper looked worriedly at the sky. Once again the images changed to the young man and woman standing on the balcony, before zooming out as the man raised his hand and soldiers in the background saluted before the scene changed to show the young man looking at scores of soldiers while big war vehicles of some kind drove across the scene in the foreground. 

The piano was joined by what sounded like some kind of stringed instrument and drums started tapping in the background, as the music began to build. Once again back to the first room full of men with the woman and the metal briefcase, this time a close up of a nervous young man in a suit as the bearded man takes a key from his jacket and places it into a slot, flipped a switch and lots of red lights flashed on. Steve felt the hair on his arms stand up as the case began to emit an ominous whining sound. Then it was a close up of the troubled looking young soldier that seemed so familiar to him, before showing flashes of helicopters and green fields, that became running almost frightened young children, that became the pretty Asian woman who’s paper hat was blown off and would have been blown away by the helicopters wind if not for a thin cord around her neck. She began to walk forward as the helicopter flew low enough that the young soldier could jump out with his gun at the ready. Steve realized he had started to lead forward in dread as the music rose to a crescendo and the gentleman with the briefcase flipped open a covering over a red button before looking at the frightened looking men to the side of him, and the tank began to bear down on the young blond woman with her back to the audience who stood her ground as the tanks gun came to bear on her and the man’s hand froze above an ominous red button just as the music ceased. 

In the moments that followed as the camera zoomed out on the room full of men, changed to the tired looking but grimly determined woman with her red lipstick, Steve could actually hear the click of his too dry throat in the silence of the room. Then the clanking of metal as a young solider opened the hatch on the tank and stuck his head out and the camera zoomed back to the pretty blond as she called out what sounded like “Mikhail” with a beaming grin before running to the side of the tank. Steve felt himself release a full body sigh as the piano started to softly play again the camera focused in on her red high heels as she climbed up the tank to joyfully hug the soldier who looked so tired and grateful to have her in his arms again. Then was the young man with the gun trotting toward the woman who’s already raised hand was ready to push the combat helmet of his head, while the soldier reached for her in turn. There was a brief moment where the soldier’s gun was dropped in the mud with a wet splat before the camera focused on the pair of them as they kissed. Then the camera zoomed out as the helicopter was departing and you could see the two of them hugging and kissing in front of some houses as a pair of adults and some children in the background watched. Next was the balcony as the young man nodded to the soldiers before him who all raised colored posters they were holding as one, to show a picture of the young man and woman in a heart with a red background while the military vehicles drove in the foreground. The young lady’s eyes widened in shock before she turned to him and took his hand. You could see a hint of the smile that the man couldn’t fully suppress. Finally looking pleasantly happy the bearded man pressed the red button before he and the woman turned to look out the window behind them as fireworks light up the sky. The woman in the scarf gives him a loving smile as the room full of men applaud and a truly stunning fireworks display goes on in the background, and the gentleman places a kiss on the back of the ladies hand. Then words appear on the screen and the announcer reads “Make Love. Not War.” 

Absently, Steve becomes aware of the happy almost dopey smile on his face. The final image is seen in the background through the open door of a bedroom. It is of the bearded gentleman wearing pants but no shirt with his arms held up and open. There are two men with him dressed in white, the one behind him is holding a shirt and jacket, while the one in front sprays something onto the man’s chest. In the foreground is a small familiar looking black canister with a white unusual symbol of what appears to be a circle with a line down the middle of it. Just under half of the way down the main line are two lines branching off at an angle to the left and right connecting to the inside of the outer circle. Right beside the symbol is the word Axe and underneath the canister the announcer reads off the words the words “New Axe Peace” then the canister disappears and a picture of a globe sitting on some leaves appears with the words Peace One Day sitting underneath. While underneath the ‘New Axe Peace’ appears more words that say ‘Supporting Peace One Day’ finally the man lowers his arms places a hand on his hip and almost seems to pose for a second before the commercial ends. “Ah” Steve thinks distantly as his movie restarts “Of course, Rumlow, that’s where I’ve seen that canister before”. As his movie resumes Steve tries to put the commercial and the strangely nagging familiarity towards that soldier from the helicopter out of his head, by the time he finally falls asleep he is still largely unsuccessful.

By the time Monday morning appears the soldier from the commercial is still nagging at him. It’s not a constant thought, like the song on repeat that you just can’t get out of your head, the thought was far subtler than that. Between the Strike team paperwork, staff meetings, and combat training. Occasionally being invited to be an assistant combat instructor, quarterly qualification on the gun range, team training and all other manner of briefings about the state of the world and how secure it may or may not be, Steve was a busy man. But still the thought persisted, in the brief moments of the in between. Like in the gym when he would normally be falling into an almost mindless series of punches he’d hear the music from the commercial playing in his head. In the elevators while changing floors if it was quiet enough Steve could hear the faintest whine of the elevator, and while clearly worlds different it still reminded him of the ominous briefcase. Or maybe he would be on the range and he’d notice the rifles that were similar to the soldiers and remember the soft wet splat it made when it hit the mud, the way it looked for the brief moment before the kiss was shown. Once while on one of the combat simulation training fields one of the junior agents had moved in a crouching run that was eerily similar to the young soldier, though the agent’s movements had been far more practiced and fluid. 

He had been sitting in the conference room with Natasha exchanging meaningless small talk, for some reason she had taken it into her head recently that he was lonely and her solution was to try and set him up on dates. It was almost enough to make him regret coming to the meeting room so early, especially as he still had fifteen minutes till the briefing would start. Rumlow and Rollins would probably be there within the next five minutes or so and any other specialists who were joining them would trickle in over the remaining ten minutes before Agent Woo would brief them right at 0800 on the dot. Thankfully they did not disappoint, and less than a minute later he heard them coming down the hall exchanging stories about their weekend, as he turned to the door trying to hide how desperately thankful he was for their timing. Much to his chagrined and judging by the thoroughly amused huff beside him, he was not as successful as he hoped. He looked up with a smile as Rumlow slipped through the door, Rollins ever faithfully on his heels, and promptly felt the air rush violently out of his body like he had just been sucker punched in the stomach.

Distantly, he was aware of the way the men came to attention, and Natasha shifted lethally fluid beside him able to attack or defend in a second. Distantly his mind cataloged the way Rollins twisted around bending his knees to make himself a smaller target and putting his back to the room to check for the threat in the hallway behind him, trusting Rumlow to watch his six in the open room, the way he knew Rumlow trusted him. The way three pairs of hands palmed favorite weapons, and eyes darted around the room searching for the threat, for what could make Captain Americas eyes widen while stealing his breath, but only distantly. He could see Rumlow’s lips moving likely demanding a status update, but he couldn’t hear him all he could hear was a loud rushing sound in his ears. The rest of his attention was on Rumlow’s face, alert, but with an underlying wariness, while the white overhead lights washed out his swarthy olive toned skin.

_“P!”_

All he could think was 

_“AP!”_

you look like the soldier. 

_“CAP!”_

_“STATUS REPORT CAP!”_

“You Look Like The Soldier!”

“What!?” “What soldier!?” Rumlow demanded incredulously, and Steve could only groan and sit there for a moment with his face in his hands in shocked embarrassment. While not just Rumlow, but Rollins and Natasha as well having determined that their lives were not in danger alternated between giving him incredulous looks, and looking at each other like they thought he had lost his mind. “Well, this is embarrassing.” Three snorts was his only answer. 

“You want tell me what that was about Cap” “Inquiring minds want to know” was Natasha’s contribution. Rollins for his part just cocked an unimpressed brow. Steve rubbed his hand tiredly over his face for a minute, before shooting a quick look at Natasha. “Last week I had my first mission with the strike team- “Small time drug cartel in Malta supplying illegal weaponry to terrorists in Libya” Natasha cut in with a smile for Steve’s glare. Really he wasn’t even going to ask how she knew that considering it was supposed to be classified. Though Rumlow and Rollins appeared to be somewhat amused. “Friday night after the mission and celebratory team drink I ended up watching Rocky on television.” “Yeah Cap, what did you think of it?” Rumlow asked while Rollins muttered something under his breath that he didn’t catch. Though if the way Rumlow glared, “You wouldn’t know a good movie if it jumped up and bit you” was anything to judge by it was uncomplimentary. Rollins just rolled his eyes so hard it looked like it hurt.

“Boys” Natasha murmured. “Well about halfway through the movie on one of the commercial break's there was this commercial-” and as Steve began to tell them about the commercial he couldn’t help but notice the way both Rumlow and Rollins eyes had slightly widened. Though that was the only expression they shared as right before his eyes Rumlows face had paled even more going as blank as he could make it, though Steve thought he might be seeing just the slightest hint of red on Rumlows neck. Rollins on the other hand, was clearly holding back hysterical cackles, face steadily turning redder than Steve had ever before seen and biting his lip so hard it was surprising it wasn’t bleeding. Natasha had zeroed in on them sharp eyes focusing on Rumlows stony face then Rollins barely withheld hilarity and slightly widening before focusing on Rumlow with a toothy grin that couldn’t have been more at home on a shark.

“Something you’d like to tell us Rumlow?” she asked with a tone that was positively saccharine. “Like maybe, the reason you’re so fond of Axe body spray?” _“SNERK!_ Yeah Rumlow why don’t _SNORT!_ you tell them? _Heh! Heh! Heh!”_ Rumlow shot a dirty look at his best friend before looking at Steve and Natasha then glancing at the clock which read five minutes till. “If you _CHUCKLE!_ if you won’t tell them I will.” Apparently deciding that if he wanted any hope of keeping any part of his dignity he’d better fess up, Rumlow quickly told them how when he’d been eighteen he’d seen an ad in the newspaper asking for young men to take place in a commercial shoot for a new body spray. He’d already signed up for the Army but he still had a couple of months to kill before they shipped him off to basic. It had basically just been for laughs and maybe a bit of quick cash, he didn’t think they would actually pick him for the commercial but they did. 

Evidently the commercial had been up and running for a week before Rumlow shipped out, he’d thought that with the Army giving him a buzz cut that he would be safe but wouldn’t you know it Jack was placed into his unit and somehow recognized him. For the entirety of basic every care package that came to one of his fellow trainees had a bottle of Axe in it that was usually either sprayed in the air around him or snuck into his footlocker. Evidently that was about all Rollins could take, as a hot blush spread out from Rumlows neck all the way up to his hairline, he proceeded to burst into deep, gut-wrenching laughter. Really he wasn’t even trying to hold it back. Then it was Rumlows turn to bury his face in his hands while he swore a blue streak and Rollins laughed until he literally cried. 

**Author's Note:**

> Ozhawk wrote a Colossus/Crossbones Birthday soulmate short that I happened to read then I commented on it, not sure I should have done that because then my brain went huh... and spit this out. All canon creators are owned by Marvel and the writers who dreamed them up. Axe is owned by Unilever. Julie Anders belongs to Bofurric. Cynthia Mercer belongs to Stoatsandwich. Isaac Murphy belongs to Lauralot. Many thanks to Lauralot for pointing out to me that Westfahl is the creation of Dira Sudis, so I can give credit to those whose characters have inspired me.


End file.
